I'm Sorry
by MissMaryMason
Summary: Stan tries to apologize for something he said to Cartman earlier. One-sided Stanman


**A.N.: Hey! I haven't really written anything substantial in like fifty million years but I've decided to once again trudge through the murky waters of ff dot net. This is my first (official) time writing for this fandom, and first time ever for this pairing, so excuse me if I didn't do it justice. I realize that I might have made them a bit ooc, but like I said, first time writing them and all, I haven't really found a good voice for them all yet. Lastly, please forgive me for any and all grammar/spelling mistakes! I tried to catch them all, but I am a mess. Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Stan stood awkwardly in front of Cartman's door, shivering from the bone piercing cold penetrating his worn out jacket. He knew he needed a new one, but being a creature of habit, he'd probably wear this one down to its last threads before buying a new jacket. Besides, the cold wouldn't be bothering him if he just fucked off to his own house or sucked it up and knocked on the door like a normal human being. Typical of him though, he was overthinking everything and hadn't completely decided yet whether or not he wanted to talk to Cartman. Well, he did _want _to talk to him, but he wasn't really sure if he _should_.

He nervously rang the doorbell and waited. Earlier in the day Cartman and Kyle had gotten into one of their typical arguments and in Kyle's defense, Stan had said some less that appropriate comments about Cartman's mom. Liane was a wonderful woman and Stan really had nothing against her. She was just an easy target and it was the heat of the moment. Cartman had stormed off, as he had begun doing quite often whenever he'd argue with someone. Stan chalked it up to maturity. Cartman had to grow up some time after all, everyone was just a little disappointed he waited until senior year to do it.

He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard something shatter. After a few moments, Cartman opened the door. "What do you want?" he asked harshly, narrowing his eyes. This was normal behavior for the brunet, but Stan still shifted his eyes to the ground and cleared his throat before looking back up and answering.

"Hey, uh, I wanted to apologize. For earlier." Stan said, rubbing the back of his neck. Cartman raised a brow suspiciously. Stan realized he was waiting for him to elaborate. "I shouldn't have said what I said, and Kyle was being a prick. He just does that sometimes. You know how he is, being Jersey and all." Stan waved his hand dismissively. "Anyways, you were right. So… sorry."

Cartman stood quietly for a moment longer before allowing Stan entry into his house. Stan stomped his feet quickly to shake off the snow accumulating on his boots and stepped inside as swiftly as his frozen limbs would allow. Stan followed Cartman into the kitchen where he observed plate shards littering the floor and cubes of butter stuck in clumps along the edge of the table and across the kitchen tiles. "Dude, what happened in here?" Stan asked, watching Cartman stoop down to pick up the plate shards.

"Well, I was _gonna _make cherry turnovers, but then I decided I'd much rather just redecorate the kitchen." Stan made a noise of acknowledgement and continued to watch the larger boy go about cleaning up his mess. Cartman's cheeks were coloring from the effort and Stan felt a familiar fluttery feeling in his stomach.

"So why are you apologizing, hippie?" Stan was quiet, not immediately realizing that Cartman was asking him a question. His face flushed.

"Oh. I just, you know, I felt bad. What I said was uncalled for. You were right, Kyle had no reason to-"

"No," Cartman interrupted, standing to wash his hands and glancing back over his shoulder, locking eyes with Stan shortly. "No, I get that part. You're always wanting to fix things that don't need fixed." Stan tightened his jaw at that comment. "What I meant was, why does it matter?"

Stan bit his lip, looking over Cartman's face as he approached him. His eyes appeared bored, but also slightly curious. Of course, it was only passing interest; Cartman would probably much rather be busy doing something else rather than stand here waiting for Stan to stop beating around the bush and tell him why he was here.

Stan sighed. "I mean, we're friends, right?" Cartman made an amused face at that, and before he could say anything to contradict the statement, Stan went on. "We've been through a lot of shit together, we've known each other for years and all, I just. I don't know. We're friends, even if we don't always act like it. I'm sure Kyle feels the same way."

"Fuck sake, Stan, I thought you were here to apologize, not give me a love confession." Cartman chuckled. Stan felt his stomach make another nauseating turn. "And why do you keep bringing up the Jew every two seconds? Christ." He rolled his eyes.

"Fuck off, dude." Stan defended himself. "I'm trying to say that even though we're friends, Kyle is my best friend-"

"_Super _best friend," Cartman mocked.

"-and whether I agree with him or not, I'm always gonna take his side. He may have been wrong, but you weren't exactly Mr. Perfect either." Stan furrowed his brows. "We all said some things we shouldn't have. So, yeah. I'm sorry." He finished lamely, averting his eyes again.

"Why bother telling me all this, Stan? It makes no difference." Cartman paused. "I mean, thanks for the ego stroke, but what? Is that supposed to comfort me or something?"

"No, I just…" Stan trailed off, but it didn't matter because Cartman wasn't listening anyways.

"You know, sometimes I question whether or not you're actually the Jewish one. You don't eat meat, you feel guilty about things out of your control-"

"Shut up,"

"Seriously Stan, what were you trying to accomplish here? When have you ever cared about my feelings?"

Stan couldn't help but throw his hands up in frustration. "Fine, sorry for trying to be nice, asshole. You can be such a dick, Cartman." He knew that he was letting it bug him too much, but Stan was admittedly a bit of a coward and hated confrontation, so just _considering_ actually doing this had been exhausting on his part. The least Cartman could do was accept the apology and let them move past this. As he was turning to make his dramatic leave, Cartman grabbed his wrist tightly.

"Don't be such a pussy, Stan. What the fuck is all this about?" Something in Cartman's tone made Stan look up, and he swallowed thickly while fireworks exploded in his stomach. He wished he'd never decided to show up to apologize. It wasn't worth it; Not when it meant that Cartman could potentially hold this whole ordeal over his head. He knew he should have thought it over more.

"Nothing, fatass. I felt bad, so I apologized. Not everyone has to have an ulterior motive for everything." He moved to brush his black hair out of his face when he realized Cartman still had a firm grip on his wrist. Cartman didn't seem to notice. Instead, he was studying Stan's face intensely, scrutinizing it for any sign that what he was saying wasn't true.

"Fine. I guess I can forgive you for being a complete asshat." Cartman said, releasing Stan's wrist and crossing his arms. "You aggravate me, Marsh."

Stan was offended, and immediately retorted. "_I _aggravate _you_? You're not the one who has to put up with you." Stan was vaguely aware that what he said kind of didn't make sense, but he was sure that his meaning was received.

"You don't _have _to 'put up with me', just like you didn't _have _to come say sorry. You chose to of your own free will because you like me whether you'd admit that publicly or not." Cartman smirked.

Stan felt the color drain out of his face. No way did he know about that. He hadn't told anyone, not even Kyle. "What do you mean?" he sputtered quickly. "I don't like you." And then for good measure, he added, "Fag."

Cartman's face immediately went from smug to perplexed. "You literally just said that we're 'friends' and now you're saying you don't like me? How does that work?"

Stan realized his error at the same moment that Cartman's brain caught up with what just happened. Neither of them said anything. They just stood silently as the tension seemed to suffocate them.

Stan may not have been speaking, but his mind was screaming at him, racing a mile a minute. If he hadn't known before, then he definitely does now. Everyone knew that Stan was bisexual, and it would take an idiot not to connect the dots.

"Stan." Cartman said quietly.

"I'm sorry, okay? Can we just pretend this didn't happen?" he wasn't going to be the one to say it. If they didn't say it then it didn't happen and things could go back to normal.

Cartman shook his head, a look of genuine discomfort and guilt crossing his face. "I'm not… I don't… I'm not like that, dude."

That probably hurt more than anything else he could have said. It wasn't like Stan had high hopes or anything, he figured that nothing would come of this stupid little crush. But a part of him always thought that Cartman liked guys. Hell, who _didn't _think that? Stan could feel his stomach twisting and turning and he clamped his mouth shut because at this point he really wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep from puking.

"But," Stan looked up tentatively to see Cartman smiling slightly. It wasn't one of his usual smiles; it held no malice and seemed warm and inviting. It made Stan's heart leap and his throat tighten. "I won't, like, say anything. To anyone."

Stan honestly didn't care if he _did_. He just wanted to get out of there, get back to his house and scream into his pillow about how unfair the world was. Maybe he'd go work out, fuck Wendy (whom he'd conveniently forgotten he was still dating at the time being), or drink himself into oblivion. Just something, anything, so he could forget all about this mortifying situation. "As if anyone'd believe you if you did, fat boy." With that bitter response, he cleared his throat and blinked rapidly to dispel the tears clouding his vision before all but sprinting for the front door, leaving Cartman to stand alone with no idea what was going on anymore.

* * *

**A.N. 2.0: Please be kind and review and let me know what you think I can improve on! Also, this was just supposed to be a little ficlet, but now I'm having ideas of where this could go in case anyone is interested in a possible sequel. Anyways, thank you for reading. xx**


End file.
